Battle Encounters
by Nerdene Hyrde
Summary: herd-verse: Shadowsinger is on a recon mission on the very first battle field in the long Autobot-Decepticon feud, meeting unexpected resistance and is then taken prisoner.
1. Chapter 1

Wishmaster: Well, hello everyone! 'greets all the readers that have managed to discover this one-shot'

Shadowsinger: 'Waves a little' Yeah, hi.

Wishmaster: Okay, pals, so the following RP was a joined effort between the both of us. With Shadow playing his lovingly and cute self and me acting as Megatron once more.

Shadowsinger: 'mutters something about lovely and cute' So, yeah, and trust me, it was FUN. Maybe you'll like reading it as much as we liked makin' it... but I doubt it.

Wishmaster: Heh, I'd have to agree with ya there. Anyway, for those in the knowing...this is considered herd-verse and canon at that! Keeping that in mind I'm certain you'll find this even more interesting! :D

Shadowsinger: 'smirks' Oh yeah, I hope they do. Anyway, I'm sure the readers are gettin' nice and interested now... so I'm supposed t'say Transformers doesn't belong to us, right?

Wishmaster: Yup, good of ya ta just have stated it, Transformers does not belong to us, nor do we use it for any profit. Now go and enjoy the read!

-

Shadowsinger was actually pretty good at sneaking around. Probably came with being at least half the size of most mechs, that would be his guess, at any rate. Still, 'Sneak around the battlefield and hit the 'cons from their back,' sure, give him all the easy jobs why don't they? Not that anyone else in his company would have been better suited for this task. Shaking off the idle musings, Shadowsinger darted from one rocky outcropping to another. He was close enough that he couldn't afford to be distracted now.

A blurry shadow on the edge of his right optic field caught his attention and he turned his head from the on going battle he'd been observing up until now. They had been progressing nicely, encountering only minimal resistance from the Autobots protecting the little base on the outskirts of Iacons power. Megatron nodded to Soundwave, indicating that he wanted him to continue observing their progress, while his troops sliced through their enemies if they didn't choose to surrender. There would be no prisoners this time. Making his way over to where he had seen a hunch of...something, he took care to stay on top of the rocks so that he would have an advantage, no matter what he encountered. A rustling of plates and whirring servos caught his attention and he did a quick calculation of his audio-receptors output, his calculation processor gaining that whatever it was that had moved, was only twenty feet beneath him. Taking the moment of surprise with him, he jumped down onto the ground and whirled around, his fusion cannon up and pointed dead center onto the startled mechs head. Noticing the red symbol on his lightly colored chassis, he narrowed his optics in anger.  
"I do believe that you know who I am, so you should know that it would do you no good to run or fight. If you choose to surrender however...I will spare your spark...for now," he growled and powered up his cannon, ready to charge should the Autobot be enough of an idiot to try and fight back or lead him onto a wild chase.

Oh, sweet Primus, out of all the mechs on the Decepticon side, Megatron was the second-worst possible choice to find him. Shadowsinger was well aware of how weird that would sound to most people, but this really wasn't the time to think about that. The thought of fighting only crossed his processors because it had been mentioned, and running the same. Well aware that this was still only a marginally better choice then running or fighting would be, Shadowsinger spread his arms submissively.  
"As you say, Lord Megatron. I surrender." It never hurt to be polite... except, of course, when it did. He badly hoped no other Autobots found out about this, while being rather sure that, of course, they would.

He was disappointed in the lack of fight the slagger put up and displayed that with a frown creasing his faceplate. Not that he would have wanted to chase after the cretin, but just a little, tiny little shot of his cannon would have probably disintegrated him already, so the others surrender was probably his only option to continue his survival at least somewhat. What irked him though was the fact that the Autobot was even more polite than the most snivelling of his own ranks. For an astrosecond he entertained the thought of the little mech as his personal servant, standing next to his throne and attending to his every whim, bowing to him every time his optics rested on him. He was surprised at himself for his thought process, but then again the mech did look like an appetizer.

"Get over here then!" he snapped impatiently and pointed to a space directly in front of his left foot.

Shadowsinger was moving as soon as he processed the order, trying not to shake. Megatron was much like the first time he'd seen him, still a violent, brutal, and beautiful mech. This was not very likely to end well, and he really, really didn't want that frown directed at him again. Standing right before the enemy leader, Shadowsinger had to crane his neck if he wanted too see his face. Considering the temper Megatron was said to have, it was probably better to keep his head down anyway. 'Please don't take me back with you, please don't take me back...' Shadowsinger chanted in his head, waiting tensely for the next order. Slaggit, he was taking orders from Megatron.

He waited with his processor straining with impatience as the little Autobot complied him. It didn't matter that the little mech did what he had told him to quickly and without a word of protest or begging rising from his vocalizer. Looking down on the distasteful view of the Autobots symbol on a mech with their purple on his chassis was disconcerting. The big blue optics that were watching him avidly with fear didn't bother him in the least and now that he was close enough, he even powered down his fusion cannon without discharging it. Why should he have waisted energy after all? A quick strike with his left hand had the other cybertronian offline and in a heap on the ground, limbs tangled and a surprised expression on his now slowly relaxing faceplate. Megatron chuckled lowly and lifted his foot, ready to crush the mech, but something in his data banks tingled at the thought. No matter what any of his opponents or followers might have thought, he was a mech of honor still and he had promised to spare the slagger's spark for the moment, so he sighed in defeat of his own restrictions. Next time he would not put himself into such a situation but just kill whomever he discovered, he told himself and scooped the bot up, carrying him easily with only his left hand.

Three breems later the battle had been won, the base destroyed and he was on the way back to their headquarters with only Shockwave as company. He had ordered Soundwave to stay behind and observe his troops as they rested in the Autobots base, regaining their strength for the next battle on a base that was only a joors walk north of this one. Slowly but surely they were taking out Iacons weak defences and he felt the day of total victory approaching closer and closer with every passing astrosecond. Back in his own quarters he remembered the still form he was still carrying, yet he was just too lazy to get down to the prison cells, so he opted to just chain the little Autobot to a wall in his berth room. Usually those chains held his lovers and not his captives, but who had ever said that one couldn't combine the pleasant with the practical? Nobody, so he checked the chains quickly to make sure that the mech couldn't escape in the breem it would take him to get all the dust out of his chassis. If he even onlined while he was gone, yet if he did and began struggling he would only weaken himself seeing as the chains were designed to cut right through his plating if he moved. He found no fault with the chains he had fastened around the other chassis, he never did once he had finished restraining a mech, so he went into the adjoining room, his personal wash rack and began to diligently scrub his armor clean.

The first thing Shadowsinger noticed as he onlined was the muffled sound of water. That wasn't so bad, except that it meant he'd been moved from the battlefield, which probably was a bad thing. The next thing he noticed was that he'd been chained, quite well, to a wall. Tugging against the restraints automatically, he gave a hiss at the result and was quite careful to hold still. Chained, off the battlefield, no, things were NOT looking good for him. He finally got around to looking about.

"Oh, Primus," he moaned, realizing that he was chained in a single-mech room. It wasn't even worth hoping that he wasn't in Megatron's room, not after everything else. At least he hadn't seen Soundwave when he was brought in... Megatron hit hard. Shadowsinger wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but it was likely quite a while.

Once he was satisfied with the status of his gleaming plates, Megatron turned the water off and began to polish the smooth surfaces. He hadn't heard a single jingle coming from the chains, so the Autobot was either still offline or intelligent enough not to cut himself to scrap. Finishing the work on his armor with a dry cloth so that there would be no visible streaks he opted to return to his prisoner. Upon entering his berth room again, he found blue optics swiftly turning away from his berth and widening slightly as they settled onto his form. Just what had the Autobot been processing? Did he think he had managed to count one and one together as he had sighted the berth? Was he expected to...well why not, he wasn't unattractive after all. The purple of his seams was bringing the lighter color of the rest of his chassis out nicely. Contemplating if he should do his captive the favor of making his worst fears reality he relished in the tremendous feeling of power flowing his chassis at the thought process. Deciding that he would do as was apparently expected of him, he stepped closer to the Autobot and considered just how he should remove that blasted red symbol from his chassis.

"Ever thought of deserting those weaklings?" he asked in a conversational tone, tapping the distasteful red visage.

Primus, he was beautiful, gleaming from fresh polish... you'd never guess that he had just come from a battle. Urg, STOP it, Shadow, he thought firmly to himself, deliberately bringing up the memory of the dying mech, the feel of the fluids cover him. Shadowsinger was so busy distracting himself that he didn't notice Megatron come closer, until the larger mech touched him. It took the captive a moment to realize what had been said, and he gave a faint sigh of relief. The question that had been asked he could answer, truthfully and directly, without giving any of his more treacherous thoughts away. Quietly, he replied.

"No, I haven't."

He frowned in displeasure at the answer, open animosity displayed on his sharp features as he curled his left hand around the shoulder bearing the red symbol. Crushing the plates in his hold slowly he let his vocalizer produce a low growl to show the mech that it wouldn't do him well to play dumb with him.

"Well you should have," Megatron snarled and sank his digits into the Autobot's inner wiring right through his armor. The little frame jerked in the chains he had put him in, cutting through plating without meaning to and crying out in apparent pain.

"I could rip off your whole shoulder just to get rid of this...splotch of color," he smirked darkly and moved the blunt tips of his digits against sensor nodes, nearly crushing them with the force he used.

Oh, slag, he had to quit worrying about what the 'bots would say and worry more about getting through this. This was exactly why he'd walked away from Soundwave that day, why- Megatron moved again, fingers digging, and Shadowsinger's thoughts shattered. That hurt, Primus fraggit, and pulled him against the chains once again.  
"And will you, Lord Megatron?" he asked, voice hitching in pain and fear. Oh, stupid, STUPID, his processor informed him, too late to actually be of any use. At least it was his right shoulder, and not the one with his gun, but then, he favored close combat. Turning his head just a little, Shadowsinger could watch as Megatron's hand shifted against him. In an almost resigned manner, he waited to see the hand tighten further, to watch his arm torn away from him.

"Why should I when all that is needed is a little paint?" he smiled cruelly and relented his hold upon the now damaged shoulder. Watching the little energon that was oozing out of an open cut now, which the Autobot had created himself by struggling against the chains with which he had bound him. He stared at the liquid in fascination and leaned down slowly to trace his glossa through the first drops flow, changing it's course slightly.

"You don't taste afraid..." he mused and stared hard at the little mech. What the pit was going on here? If he wasn't frightening the Autobot with his actions then what...could it be...was he turning him on with the pain?

"I... don't?" Shadowsinger asked, frankly startled by the comment. He couldn't... no, he seriously couldn't be wishing that Megatron would do that again. Not the whole let's-crush-Shadowsinger's-shoulder bit, he could do without that, but... The curious way he'd looked at the cut, the slow and gentle touch of his glossa... that wasn't bad. And... if he was honest, and Shadowsinger was always honest, at least with himself, Megatron's touch against those nodes... He shook his head briefly, then dared to meet Megatron's hard look.  
"I... I didn't know you could... taste fear," he added, feeling the need to say something, anything, to break... whatever mood was slowly growing.

"No, you don't...not yet," he smirked and brought his fusion cannon level with the little mechs spark, pressing the opening of his gun barrel right onto the Autobot's chestplates, slowly powering it up to let him feel the vibrations and raw power he contained. Licking at the little energon once more he found that it's taste had changed marginally but not to the fearful spike of coldness he had expected, but to a hot stinging that gave away his desire clearer than anything else ever could have. Stepping closer to the mech, he managed to press into his chassis with his own without any interference of the sharp chains.

"You probably will soon enough though.", he growled against the open wound, his mouth closing the cut off from any air flow and sucking more energon out of the lightly damaged line that was quickly repaired by the Autobot's internal systems. The leak was stopped all too soon and he flicked his glossa right against it, managing to reopen it a little and taste energon that was heavy with the sharp and cutting note of desire.

Primus, he was helpless, so helpless and so, so vulnerable. And it was scary, he could fit his entire arm up that fusion cannon Megatron sported, and it would take so little power to offline him permanently. But if that was the worst that happened, at least no one would find out about the shivers of pleasure that traced through the fear. As the tyrant re-opened the leaking cut, Shadowsinger thanked Primus that Megatron didn't know about the thing he had for necks. Ironic, since it was partly Megatron's doing. Ever since his first time, when Sunny had stroked his neck and he had thought of the pit fight he'd seen, necks were always fascinating... and always, always, reminded him of Megatron beheading that mech. Was that why he was acting this way now?

"At least fear would be a normal reaction." Shadowsinger murmured sadly, pulling against the chains again in a confused manner.

"Not necessarily," he mused and left the now once again closed leak alone to stare at the Autobot's faceplate intently from the side. Why the pit was this little slagger not afraid of him? How could he be aroused by what he did? He surely had had his fair share of lovers and most hadn't reacted this...well to his ministrations. They had always detested the chains. Oh, the Autobot was fighting them surely, yet only half sparkedly and the little cuts he created filled his olfactory sense with the smell of fresh energon. His spark pulsed at the added turn on that energon always brought for him and he felt the little mech jerking against his chestplates as he felt it too. Slowly he lifted his fusion cannon to splay his hand over the mechs side, sliding digits into armor seams slowly, teasing sensor nodes lightly, yet he kept his weapon charged, adding a potent power to his building desire.

"It might do your energon levels well not to move all that much," he reprimanded the mech and just as the Autobot wanted to answer him, Megatron slipped his glossa between his dermaplates, kissing his prisoner with brutal force as the other didn't appear to be inclined to comply and respond favorably.

Why? Why was it so... exciting, to have this... this murderer, so close to him? This was MEGATRON, the cold-sparked pit-spawn... ... who was... touching him. Tenderly... well, maybe not quite, but it was a far cry from the painful squeezing from before. And then Megatron kissed him, dear Primus this couldn't be happening. Shadowsinger could taste his own energon on Megatron's glossa, thick and heavy, and it was all he could do not to push into him, to try and free his arms to pull the mech closer. If this had been the side he'd seen of Megatron first... Shadowsinger didn't want to think those thoughts, didn't want to think about what ifs. Things were already set, there wasn't much he could do to make them worse. Out of sheer curiosity, Shadowsinger lifted his head, about the only part of him that could safely move, and tried to take dominance of the kiss.

As soon as he felt the Autobot reciprocate, he pressed his hand into a sideseam forcibly and fisted some wires roughly as the little mech tried to question his status and dominate the kiss. Ruthlessly he quenched any such notions by applying even more pressure with his glossa and dermaplates, his mandibles scratching at the Autobot's faceplate as his glossa filled his mouth almost completely. He would not have his authority questioned! Growling lowly to ensure that he had gotten his point across he moved a chain with his left hand, dragging it over the others plating slowly to relocate it on a higher position, slowly working on exposing the mechs chestplates while keeping him chained to the wall. Megatron pressed into the little mech further as he leaned more of his weight onto him, causing him to whimper and tilt his head backwards, exposing his neck joint even further in a gesture of submission.

He knew that was a mistake, he knew it the moment he DID it. So why the pit had he done that? And now the far larger mech was leaning on him, so heavy, and it felt good, why did it feel good? Shadowsinger moaned, from pain or some form of enjoyment he didn't know, as Megatron moved the chain up, carefully. There were no further cuts, just the light teasing as the sharp links passed harmlessly over his ivory form. This is suicide, the thought flashed through his processor as he exposed his neck to the mech who had first showed him how truly vulnerable it was.

Megatron just couldn't ignore such an obviously weak spot offered to him and he broke away from the dermaplates and the glossa he had been domineering and molesting at the same time. Latching onto the little neck all it would take to offline the Autobot now would be a single bite applied with too much force, severing energon lines and data wires supporting the others systems. Just then he grasped another chain, pushing it down the others form and scrapping his armor lightly, only cutting through the upper layers that were interspersed by sensor nodes, but carried no energon lines at all. Twisting wires between his considerably larger digits he knew he had to be causing his prisoner pain, but the moan leaving the others vocalizer clearly stemmed off of anything but pleasure.

"Quite a needy little mech I've found it appears," he couldn't help but mock the soldier before he seized onto the clasps that would force him to open his chestplates. Fingering the clasp teasingly, he stroked mainboards and sensor nodes in reach of his hand, intent on making him beg for more.

If Megatron had still been tasting for fear, he would have been rewarded the moment his dermaplates closed around the lines and wires. But cutting through the fear was a strong, clear note of desire, of fulfilment, and Shadowsinger actually arched into the cutting chain, wondering just what was wrong with himself. He wished Megatron would moan, but the mocking purr in his voice was a nice substitute. When would the guilt hit, Shadowsinger wondered, admitting, at least to himself, just how much he was enjoying this. When the large hand fingered his clasp, he felt his spark pulse in twisted eagerness. Why wasn't Megatron going further? Was he supposed to answer the mech's words, or was he simply teasing for the cruel pleasure of it?

"Enjoying yourself are you?" he commented the spark pulse and dragged his blunt digit tips over sensitive nodes on the mechs chest. Scratching on the platings from the inside with his right hand, the barrel of his still charged fusion cannon came into direct chassis contact again, vibrating the panels with it's power and the energy leaking off of it with zaps that reminded of spark crackles and had the Autobot jerk against the chains. Megatron had anticipated it though, so he opened his mouth just a little wider so that he wouldn't offline the mech on the spot. Why he took such care to keep him online he didn't know, insubordinate mechs usually found their fate sealed in these very chains, but somehow he did not seek to add the Autobot's energon onto theirs as well. It didn't feel appropriate, he decided curtly and pressed his glossa into the joint, rubbing over data wires and energon lines. Curling it around a little line he drew it out slowly, sure that it wouldn't snap and sucked it into his mouth, grinding his mandibles against it in a clear threat that wouldn't harm the mechs systems all that much. He would only loose control of his right leg, but the sensation applied to it would stay with him he mused as he contemplated if he should sever it with a bite or not...

Shadowsinger wasn't sure what tone filled his voice as he cried out. The cannon was HOT, and the vibrations left him writhing, which of course drew more energon from him as the chain sliced through one-clean armor.  
"Ye-esss..." he whined, crying out again as Megatron's glossa picked out a wire.  
"No, please, no," he couldn't process the fact that Megatron was gnawing on him, and if he snapped that wire there would be no chance of running. Not that running was a very high thought in Shadowsinger's processor right now. No, he was far more interested in arching into that deadly cannon, letting the electricity jerk him around.

"And just why not?", Megatron queried and bit down just a little harder, not yet enough to seriously damage the line but forceful enough to make his point. The affirming whine told him that he had been right all along, the Autobot enjoyed the pain he forced upon him and so he scratched along the inner and more sensible plating a little more forcefully. Scrapping the barrel of his canon along the outer part of the precisely same area of plating, he caused the mech to jerk in his chains more forcefully, cutting his own armor open further and damage the cannon mounted onto his left shoulder, which Megatron had encircled in a chain loop. Wrapping his left hand around the clasp again he opened it a little, only about a fifth and relented again. He wanted to drive the mech insane with pleasure, wanted to hear him beg for pleasure instead of the reprieve of threats to his systems.

That was... a good question, actually. And an honest answer would probably just insure Megatron DID sever the line. As would further begging. Megatron's cannon and fingers scratched together, sandwiching his plating between them, and Shadowsinger jerked, screaming when he felt the damage to his cannon. "Please, Megatron, what do you want from me, please?" the small mech chocked out, desperation and pain and pure sweet pleasure blending perfectly in his voice. He held himself back from making the final, deadly promise of doing anything to please the demanding tyrant.

"I'm asking the questions here and now ANSWER ME!", he growled darkly, tugging on the chain more forcefully and causing the chains to cut into the cannon. Why was this Autobot so pit forsakenly stubborn? All he would have needed to do to make him consider granting pleasure instead of pain would have been submission. Not that he could rebel much in these chains, but it still wasn't enough for him. Those chains were special to Megatron for a reason, because one either offlined in them to be dragged out of the room to the scrap heap or floated in pleasure, processor still brimming with the overloads aftermath upon leaving his quarters. It would be on the Autobot to choose his fate now.

"Why shouldn't I sever this wire?", he pressed on, repeating the questions for his prisoners sake so that he would have to be either denied or complied.

Stubborn, so stubborn. Of course Megatron was stubborn, you don't become the tyrant he was without being stubborn. And of course he hadn't answered Shadowsinger's question. Why would he? Distraction hadn't worked, and Shadow knew that if he didn't give a direct answer he'd loose the use of his leg and likely his cannon as well.  
"I don't want... to loose function." he answered quietly, unconsciously barring yet more of his neck. Foolish sentimentalism, but he'd rather be trapped with severed wires, then free without the cannon. Pit, nothing had made sense since Megatron had found him, why should his reactions start making sense now?

"Had I intended for you to offline...do you think you would still be functional?", he whispered in a mock tenderness, trailing his glossa over the line in question and rubbing it over his mandibles with the action. It was a lie, because he still hadn't decided for himself if the mech would leave his quarters in a vertical or a horizontal position. Biting into the shoulder platings he continuously moved the line away from his mandibles with his glossa, just to show the captive Autobot that he was playing with him because he had decided that he enjoyed to do so.

"N-no... I wouldn't be..." Shadowsinger answered, moaning at the conflicting message he was receiving. He couldn't say he trusted Megatron, despite the offered assurance. But then, all the distrust in the world wouldn't help him if the Decepticon decided to discharge the fusion cannon that was still fully charged and oh-so-close. So then, what was really to lose by... by what? He already was submitting, what more could he do?  
"But to loose... any function." Shadowsinger dared to clarify.

The lack of an immediate answer had him pressing down on the line in earnest until the Autobot finally managed to babble some half-coherent response. He relented his grasp of the line slowly, instead biting into the sensitive neck plating to at least diffuse some of his frustration. Jerking the little mech into a more comfortable position, he pressed into his frame further, acutely hearing the metal on the back of his captive bend from the force he applied. The Autobot's legs scrapped at his hips and their sparks were almost on one level, Megatron hadn't even realized that he had automatically put the Autobot into such a suggestive and handy position.  
"That depends solely on you." Usually he would have just taken what he wanted now, there was nothing better than a fast and heated merging after a battle, yet he wanted to be asked for it, wanted to hear another plead for his attentions.

Stubborn and confusing, and beautiful, sweet Primus, why couldn't life ever be simple for once? Looking up at Megatron, it was so much like the arena, he was even covered in engeron, although the hunger lighting those red optics was different. Megatron was looking at him... the way Sunny had looked at him, but far darker, lacking any tenderness.  
"On me?" Shadowsinger echoed dumbly. No, no, asking for direction had gotten him nowhere last time. Megatron growled again, and with a bolt of clarity Shadowsinger realized what was wanted.  
"I want... you."

Growling at the annoying repeat of his statement he had apparently caused the Autobot to finally make up his mind. Scratching his gun barrel up over the mechs plating, he curled his hand into a fist against the inside, probing just how much strain the others armor could take. Satisfied that it only bent but didn't rip yet, he opened his fist, releasing some of the pressure on the plating and began to fondle the Autobot's internal wiring as far as he could reach it in the little chassis.

"Say that again," he rumbled, his engine onlining slowly and waiting for the mech to repeat his statement as something else...

He would have arched further, if he could have, but he was already bent further than he'd known he could go. Something seemed to drop and shatter at Megatron's words, and Shadowsinger barely noticed how he whined as digits caressed him.  
"I want you, Lord Megatron," he repeated, answering the mechs demand.  
"Please, I want..." what?  
"...whatever you give."

"In that case I'll give you plenty," he chuckled lowly and forced the Autobot's head to bend back painfully as he kissed him with hard demanding dermaplates and a glossa that knew precisely how to elicit a mixture of pleasure and pain that just furthered the pleasure of the mech in his chains. Just touching the clasp and not even tugging at it already wrung a moan from the prisoner and he smirked in satisfaction, keeping his caresses light and random, yet centered on the mechs chest to bear his intent clearly, while his cannon burned up with the excess energy his desire created.

He accepted the kiss, welcomed the invasion. He still longed to hear Megatron voice pleasure, but contented himself with listening to the low drone of the cannon and the sound of the engine. Megatron knew, of course, exactly what he was doing, and Shadowsinger could never guess when or where the next touch would land. And when Megatron rested a hand, only for a moment, against his clasps, Shadowsinger groaned in need and want, fresh energon spilling as he tried to reach, to pull Megatron to him.

The Autobot had not differentiated between pleasure or pain, so he gathered that he didn't mind either way as he just arched against him, groaning with desire. Putting more pressure onto chest and side panelling, he bit into the others glossa, clearly showing his prisoner just who was in charge. His fusion cannon was close to overheating and he had to cut down on some of it's energy, redirecting it to his engine, which revved appreciatively at the added resources. Forcing the platings on the Autobot's back to scrap against the wall and dent in some places, he found more room for himself to stand while pressing against his captives chassis.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't right that he had to just accept whatever Megatron gave. The Decepticon commander shouldn't be doing all the work, the task of pleasuring each other ought to be shared, equally... and reaching that word in his muddled thoughts, Shadowsinger knew it would never happen. Megatron desired power, and all he could do was hand it over, accepting whatever Megatron deemed him worthy of. The smaller mech was completely unprepared for the pulse his spark gave as he accepted his powerlessness.

Caught off guard by the spark pulse he relented in his insistence slightly, only to growl lowly as he felt the compliance streaming through the others very posture. It was the way a mech held his chassis that gave him away and the Autobot had just submitted to him completely. Tearing his attention away from those dermaplates he favored another part of his prisoners chassis with his mouth...namely the clasps keeping his chest closed and he moaned almost silently as his glossa was zapped slightly by a spark pulse.

"Is that all you're going to do?" he groaned in annoyance as much as anticipation. Megatron wanted this Autobot as soon as his spark was bared, but he wanted him to be more than just ready for it! He wanted him to ask and beg for whatever he wanted to feel, so he stilled his hands forcibly, his servos pulling wires taunt at his own forced restraint.

Confusion followed Megatron's words for a moment. What was he... power. Of course, Megatron wanted, maybe even needed, to know he had the power. When the larger hands stopped, he gave a faint keen of disappointment. It wasn't, exactly, an answer that came from his vocalizer, but a plea.  
"Please..." Please what? Just please wasn't going to be enough...  
"T-touch me," he already was,  
"I want... to feel your hands... against my wires" _against his clasps, to be opened..._  
"Show me... that I'm yours..." An ignored corner of his consciousness feared the long-term repercussions of such a declaration, but the fear only heightened his growing need.

Growling at the implication that any other would even dare to lay claims onto what was so obviously his, he snarled and drew his digits deeper into the mechs inner workings. Twisting his hand around skilfully, he brushed the blunt ends of his fingers against the spark casing, scratching it painfully and leaving a ghost of a mark behind, while his prisoner screamed in apparent pain, yet his desire never ceased. The Decepticon's insignia scratched into an Autobot's spark casing. It would get him scrapped if a medic ever managed to see it and his own troops would be forced to leave him alone should they discover it. Megatron felt satisfied that the only mark he was willing to give the Autobot was the one both sides would recognize and if not respect then certainly fear.

"Now prepare yourself to be fully owned!", he ordered in a harsh voice and forced the Autobot's chest open, by releasing the clasps keeping it closed with an internal override, centered slightly over the mechs spark chamber, deep within his internal workings.

He screamed, willingly, in desperate desire. It hurt, certainly, so deeply that Shadowsinger could do nothing but feel, and oh, how he wanted Megatron's touch. Owned... he shivered at the word, at the implications, the promise.  
"Yes, my Lord, yes, please," the smaller mech begged as his spark was exposed. He trembled, physically unable to arch any further upward.

Slowly he trailed his digits down the outer wall of his prisoners spark casing, savouring the tremble he felt coursing throughout his whole chassis and systems alike. It was now on Megatron to set the pace for the peak of both of their pleasure. Never in his entire function as leader of the Decepticons would he have ever thought to fall for an Autobot, yet he was about to bond their sparks. Somehow he had managed to become fond of the little mech. Certainly he still was his prisoner, but soon he would be prisoner to his lust and that could prove to be even stronger than any form of restraint they had come up with to use in a war so far. Splitting his own chestplates, he had to lean a little ways down to bring their sparks into alignment, but then he forced them together. The Autobot screamed and jerked in the chains, ripping more wounds into his platings and Megatron's fusion cannon was growing dangerously hot. It was scalding to the touch now, so he adjusted it slightly, the core of the fastly accumulating blast now level with their sparks. Swallowing any and every sound the mech caught in his chains made, he forced his glossa into the complying mouth and growled darkly, pleasure spiking in his systems, intent to see his needs met and his plan set into motion. Gradually their sparks aligned, layer upon layer of energy started to swing on the same frequency and the transfer began. At first it was only the tactile information that multiplied itself as they felt each other more thoroughly than before and then they started to feel what the other felt as well. Next their audio information synchronized well enough to be able to carry their perception directly into both sparks at the same time. Then their visuals clashed and created a mixture of both of them before their inner perception, yet after they had managed to sort the data streams out from one another, they could perceive each other separately, enabling Megatron to spot a way in which he could move the barrel of his fusion cannon so that it was still a threat, but couldn't hurt the Autobot unintentionally.

This was not what Shadowsinger had thought was meant. But of course, he couldn't think of anything else that might have been meant, and it was really all irrelevant now. He could see himself from his ...Lord's view, feel himself straining in his grasp. The bonding continued, linking them one to the other, and he should feel guilty, or horrified, but the Autobot welcomed the Decepticon leader with every fiber of his being. All Shadowsinger wanted in this moment was to please Megatron, any other thoughts and promises melting under the heat of that wish.

Megatron could feel the strain on the Autobot's systems as he frantically searched for a way to please him even more, make him enjoy this even more than he already was and he decided then and there to take their merge further than he would have ever considered before. Yet this mech was special, so special that his very spark had reacted to him. The sharp edges of his parted plates drew into his prisoners armor plating and tore it apart easily as he moved ever closer, searching to merge them at their very cores, speeding the process up with his insistence. Sensory feedback of all kinds rushed through his processor, emotions, tactile reports, audio output, visual images, perceptions of frequency alignment and few remaining discrepancies, memories, informations attached to every place, name and feeling flashing along with them and then he finally met the end at their cores. The final codings were revealed as their sparks connected on the deepest level, enabling them to share their very thoughts. He could literally hear the Autobot muttering at the edge of his mental awareness, like a backdrop of a presence that would continue to be with him for as long as their sparks would pulse.

"I mark you as my own as intimately as no other shall ever dare to. You are mine to give to and take pleasure from as I see fit. And you will comply with whatever I ask of you, such is the nature of our bond," he stated clearly, the words ringing through both of their minds and the air surrounding them.

"Yes..." He had run from this mech at the arena, frightened of what he represented. Now Shadowsinger knew what Megatron was, knew better than anyone else ever could, and he knew what had frightened him that night. Megatron was a conqueror, a dominator who cared little what he destroyed in the pursuit of power. And Shadowsinger had given himself to this conqueror with a devotion the Decepticon troops would never imagine. He would even lie for this mech, and he trembled at the depth of his surrender.  
"I am yours, whatever you wish of me."

"Good.", he growled in contentment and favored the Autobot with another kiss, tangling their glossas together and leaning into the mech further. Sparks of energy and static were jumping from their wires and overload was inevitable. They had little time to fully explore each other mentally, yet the taste he had gotten was enough to assure him that the Autobot wouldn't run from him. Bound as they were now, they would need each other. Of course they could bear to be apart for a certain time, but not for too long. A thought struck him and he calculated how much time usually passed between one battle and another, determining that it might just do...Snarling as their sparks finally flared so strongly that their systems couldn't take the strain anymore and forced them into overload, he tightened his hold on his Autobot once more and felt his blunt digits digging holes and dents into the mechs armor, while the Autobot hissed in pleasure in answer to his manhandling.

He had pleased Megatron, and with that one thought floating in his processor Shadowsinger flew into the shared overload. He hissed and screamed and shrieked at the sensations flowing through him before suddenly going silent. Hanging in the chains and, more importantly, Megatron's hands, Shadowsinger floated in the blissful afterglow.

Their systems needed time to cool down, so he decided not to move them for the time being. The Autobot had actually managed not to cut too much of his armor with the chains throughout overload and Megatron had the strange thought of getting him repaired before sending him on his way, but quickly dismissed that thought. It wouldn't do to have him return to the Autobots repaired. If he was damaged and in a state deprived of energon just enough to be not painful yet, he might even be able to gamble his way back in as a survivor of the last battle who had just waited with getting back until he had been able to cross the battle ground. It was a believable lie and he would have him stick to it.

"A battle should always end with an overload like this.", he mused lowly and idly rubbed light patterns over the mechs spark casing.  
"If you draw a 900 yards long line from the geographical center of the battlefield, leading straight for north, three joors after the last mech has left it standing, you'll find either me there or instructions on how to find me.", Megatron decided and was sure that the Autobot would obey his calling.

It took him a couple moments to realize he needed to pay attention.

"Nine hundred yards due north from the geographical center, three joors after the last standing mech leaves." Shadowsinger repeated, fixing the instructions in his mind as well as ensuring he had them right. The gentleness was strange after the recently past violence of their interfacing, and he sighed lightly, enjoying the touch before he realized what the orders meant.

"You're not... keeping me here, my Lord?" the question spilled from him in confused surprise.

"No. After all you do not wish to join the Decepticon cause and it would only make my men suspicious of me if I kept an Autobot around. They wouldn't manage to keep their filthy hands to themselves around you and I would be forced to reduce my own troops. Which is not a measure I intend to take with a war to win. We need the numbers we have to conquer Cybertron, but do not fear, they wouldn't dream of offlining you in battle. I'll make sure of that," he assured the Autobot while loosening one end of a chain, the one he had wrapped around the sonic cannon mounted onto his shoulder and slowly started to pry the chain out of his armor, where it had cut into him.

And that was exactly why he had chosen the Autobots in the first place, to stay alive longer. He managed to remain silent as the chain was pulled out of him, exhaustion beginning to catch up to him.

"I... I won't fear them," he agreed, not fully sure what, if anything, to add. Shadowsinger couldn't really process what had happened, what it meant and would mean, not yet.

"Oh, but you should, my little mech, you should. You wouldn't want the Autobots to become suspicious now would you? It's not as if they won't attack or fire at you, they'll just make sure to leave you functional," he corrected the others perception and made sure that their charade wouldn't be blown before it could even begin. One of the chain's links had managed to get itself caught into a tight crack of the Autobot's armor and he would have to either wriggle the element around to pry it loose or cut a little bit deeper to get a grip on it. Stroking the link and surrounding armor lightly, he decided to just cut deeper and then draw it out in one go, it would surely hurt the Autobot, but it was faster.

First he says not fear them, then he says TO fear them, and Shadowsinger found himself uncharitably wishing that Megatron would make up his mind. Then again, the first statement was more of a 'don't fear for your life' thing... Biting back a cry as the chain's link was pulled free without warning, he shivered slightly as the pain echoed through him, answering the question when he could think again.

"No, don't want them to get suspicious..." He debated with himself briefly before adding the next statement, hoping that it would please Megatron.

"I'll... do the same, as much as I can, my Lord."

"Good thinking, that should be rewarded," he decided out of the blue and just leaned down to press their dermaplates together, while freeing his captives left arm. Rubbing their glossas against each other, he felt the desire for his new mate rising within himself, yet Megatron tried to keep it down, intending to let it build up until their next encounter, after the next battle with the Autobots. Shockwave had reasoned with him for joors so now it was set that the next attack on an Autobot facility would be in an orn at the earliest, to strengthen their troops and keep the moral up, basking in the past victory. Moving his hands over the smooth torso of the chassis pressed into the wall by his own, just to feel it, he tried to put it to memory as well as he could, to manage his mate's absence for the next orn.

He had guessed right, the statement, the promise, had pleased the tyrant, his tyrant. And the kiss was a sweet reward, surprisingly gentle. With a low whimper, Shadowsinger took advantage of his freed arm, finally able to touch Megatron. His... mate. That was an idea that was going to take some getting used to, but not right now. Right now he'd enjoy the time they had together, the hands mapping his body. He didn't know how long they'd be separated, didn't feel he should ask, didn't want to even risk appearing like he might be using this... relationship to unfair gain.

Noticing a palm rubbing up his upper arm, he realized belatedly that it was his mate touching him, but by then he had already pinned the wrist to the wall with his right hand, nearly crushing the plating with the force he used to hold it in place. At the pained whimper he relented his hold and trailed his digits down the appendage, to the shoulder joint and into a side seam that led him down to the Autobot's hip. He really should stop this and untie his mate if he intended to smuggle him out of his quarters. Tearing himself away from the kiss, he needed an astrosecond to regain himself. Pinning the hip joint in his grasp to the wall, while working with his left hand to free more of his mate, he ignored his questioning gaze. Megatron didn't need to explain himself, why he suddenly forced his mate to part from him or why the simple caress had startled him.

Had he done something wrong? It was possible, Megatron was... confusing, to say the least, and very clearly didn't like any possible threat to his power. Did this mean he would never be allowed to caress that beautiful chassis, never allowed to trace the red blazes on Megatron's face? It would be hard, but... he could live with that. And Megatron couldn't be too angry, his hand was still on Shadowsinger's hip, and something that, in another mech, would be discomfort had flickered across his face. Shadowsinger watched silently as Megatron finished freeing him, forcing himself to remain still for fear of making another mistake.

Working on the chains still clinging to his mate's chassis, he kept quiet. He wasn't certain what to say to his mate, he didn't really want him to return to the Autobot forces, yet he couldn't just keep him here either. Beside that he had already decided to send him back to keep their cover. But his spark wasn't satisfied... Quenching his sparks complaints ruthlessly he pinned the Autobot with a hard gaze just as the last chain relinquished it's hold on him. Lifting the smaller mech on his hip, he let him down a short distance from the wall, so that his feet wouldn't get caught up in the chains again and then he embraced him impulsively. Bonding was seriously something different than just merging, he knew that now and this time, he didn't startle at the accidental brush of a hand along his chassis as he suddenly took his Autobot's dermaplates in a hungry and demanding kiss. On the contrary, his hand shot up from his mate's back and grabbed onto the wrist gently this time, guiding it to lie flat against his flank.

He revelled in the sudden embrace, and oh, he'd stay in a moment if Megatron asked now. He couldn't keep himself from trying to return the affections, opening to the kiss. Megatron gave kisses a lot more than Shadowsinger would have guessed, if he'd ever bothered to think about it, and he knew what he was doing. When the larger hand lead his to touch, Shadowsinger couldn't fully believe it, tracing the silver leg almost fearfully. But no, he shouldn't fear... Megatron had lead him to this, surely he wouldn't be angry. And so Shadowsinger enjoyed the kiss, and the sudden freedom to touch.

Enjoying their limited time as much as he dared to, he had to push the Autobot away slightly as his spark pulsed for more of his mate.

"You need to return. They will be searching for you already. Should they ask, you got lost in the mountains after you broke into a canyon you hadn't noticed before tumbling down into it and had to make your way out through various twists and turns of the tunnel it became," he briefly instructed the mech on the lie he would have to tell his superiors believably.  
"I will make sure to send some scouts out to secure the area and leak that an Autobot has been sneaking around in the mountains. That should take care of any suspicions should they manage to tab into out communication systems, which I doubt," Megatron decided to make the story appear more solid. Trailing his hand over the right shoulder of his mate, where there was no gun to interfere with his touch, he quickly turned him around and hefted him up against his chest, like one would carry a struggling prisoner. Walking out of his quarters, mate in his one armed embrace, he stormed down various hallways that were only partially lit, because most mechs on this deck were either recharging or on duty. Upon reaching a sub surface exit, he went five steps into the darkness and then lowered the Autobot to the ground.

Yes, that was a ghost of a tremor in Megatron's voice, and his spark had pulsed. Shadowsinger felt good at the confirmation of Megatron's desire as he listened to the lie. It was a good thing his superiors already knew how jealously he maintained his honesty. They wouldn't even consider he might be lying, that would give him some time to remember how to. And with Megatron's actions to support the lie... yes, they could pull this off. Standing on the ground, Shadowsinger found he was weaker than expected. Looking up, he could barely see the larger form of his mate in the darkness. Reality began to come crashing down, the full impact of what he had accepted pressing against him. He should say or do something, but nothing came to mind. Slowly, he turned away.

"Follow this tunnel straight ahead and keep to the north west after you exit it. You should bump into a scout troop within four breems, my men will make sure of that," he pointed down into the darkness and slid his right hand down his mate's back, briefly sliding around at hip level to caress his inner thigh plating while pressing him back against his own chassis. At the end of his instructions he pressed a chaste kiss to the Autobot's audio receptor and released him. Turning around and leaving the tunnel, he observed the mechs proceedings over a screen in the hallway, waiting until he was far in the darkness already and then went back to his quarters to take care of his pulsing spark.

Dazed and weakened, Shadowsinger followed the instructions. He burned every time he remembered the heated touches, and it was best to simply not think, simply follow the path laid out. He was found within the time frame Megatron had outlined, a thought which brought a faint smile to his faceplates before he let exhaustion and physical trauma carry him into recharge.


	2. Chapter 2

This little bunny bit me... um, about a week ago. For the record, this is just me, Shadow, writing. Den wasn't involved in this... beyond approving it. :) So, hope you enjoy!

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Waking had a tint of unreality to it. Idly, Shadowsinger decided he was falling unconscious far too often, though granted he hadn't expected Megatron to... Megatron. Oh sweet Primus, had he really... Putting aside the confusing tangle of emotions that were rising up, the small mech tried to figure out where he was first. Where he was would dictate what he had to do.

It was mostly dark, a few lights from system monitors and soft beeping from the same... a med bay, then. Warm colors... An Autobot med bay. Right, because Megatron had let him go. Let him go, ensured he would be found quickly... Hadn't even asked questions, put no limits on him... Only a few simple commands... Shadowsinger still wasn't quite ready to think about those.

Calling up his self-diagnostics, everything scanned clean, reports that he was still recovering from chassis damage, thin weld lines from a medic's repairs, even thinner lines where his own self-repair had closed wounds... those chains, those painful chains... He would like to return to them at some point, as much as he wanted to touch his... His mate.

Monitoring equipment gave a louder tone as Shadowsinger began to tremble. It wasn't loud enough to summon a medic, just enough to draw the small mech's attention, giving him something to focus on as he slowed his systems back down, mastered his emotions for a time.

His mate. He was... bonded? Focus on that first, adjust to that... Paying attention now, he could hear... no, feel, a presence, the barest touch of another in his processor. It was a very thin and light bond, then. Almost not there. Shadowsinger didn't want to think about it not being there, didn't want to think about how thin it was... Maybe next time they would deepen it a little. He kind of hoped so, even if they never did finish it, he didn't really think they would ever finish the bonding, not the way things were...

Okay, so he accepted the presence of a bond. Accepted that he was tied to another until one or both of them offlined. But thinking about _who_ that other was... Shadowsinger began trembling again, and this time yielded to it, letting the shaking rack through him freely, sending the equipment louder again. After maybe half a breem, the trembling subsided and the monitor's tone dropped again.

Try again. He was bonded. He had accepted the bond. Yearned for it, maybe even, desperate to please... his Lord? His Lord, yes. His Lord Megatron. Thinking the phrase, Shadowsinger paused a moment, waiting to see if he would begin shaking again. He didn't, leaving him free to consider just what he had done.

The first thing that came to his processor when considering the mech he was now bonded to was '_I don't love him._' Of course he didn't, why should he even think he should? Megatron hadn't asked for his love, hadn't really asked for anything at all... no. Well... he hadn't really asked... he had _demanded_ everything... but neither had he truly taken anything that Shadowsinger had been unwilling to give. Shadowsinger had simply been willing to give... everything.

When had that happened? Megatron had terrified him in the arena... But he'd grown since then, seen more of life, and more of death. And he had never lost his... fascination. So, from there... maybe it made sense that he had been so willing to... submit... more than submit.

He accepted that he was bonded to Megatron, then. Even if the thought of how... thoroughly he had surrendered was almost enough to send him shaking again. He... belonged to the Decepticon tyrant... And yet, he was an Autobot. Well, that was why the bond would never be completed... Megatron hadn't sent him back to ... to spy, or gather info, or to sabotage anything. Had sent him back... to keep him safe? Or... to make him happy? Make him happy... Well, why not, his Lord had to have realized that Shadowsinger would change sides the moment Megatron asked. He would, and he would be satisfied with his new side... but happy... Shadowsinger couldn't answer, even to himself, if he would actually be happy as a Decepticon.

Did he regret it? Did he wish it had not... The monitor gave a very loud tone indeed as Shadowsinger shuddered violently. As the medic came hurrying over to check him, the small mech smiled. He was bonded. He was Megatron's mate. And as wrong as it might be, he was happy.

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Sooo... Please leave a review! Hope you liked, but I'll even accept flames!


	3. Chapter 3

Megatron's turn for thoughts.

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After he had commanded his spark into silence once more, a feat not easily accomplished alone, as he now was, right after taking on a mate and sending him away within the last joor, Megatron found himself listlessly looking at the chains hanging limply from the wall in his quarters. What had it been about the Autobot that had captivated him so? He had certainly liked the display he had made of him on the wall, but looks had never been enough to draw him in, nor to deceive him of his senses.

Yet dwelling on happenings already past wouldn't serve him in any way or form. What he now had to do was consider how this would affect him in the future. Would he call off an attack if he knew his mate could possibly be harmed? ...no, he decided. He had erased that possibility already, at least theoretically. What was left to do now, was to inform his troops of the restriction. How best to do that... internally Megatron pondered, for he couldn't very well spill his secrets to his troops. Yet his order would need a reason attached to it or it would be questioned. It wasn't something as fleeting as his comment to an observing warrior that he had overheard about a returning patrol spotting a fleeing Autobot running into the mountainside on the edge of the battlefield. Needless to say, he would offline any mech disobeying him in this, just like he always did, but he didn't want the temptation to even be born. Most mechs would shoot at the Autobot first and then begin to think if they had been allowed to shoot him or not. It wouldn't do for his mate to be shot down. It would put Megatron into an unpleasant situation. He would have lost his mate, be required to discipline one of his soldiers with either a severe beating or by obliterating him, and still it wouldn't bring his mate back to him.

Prowling through his quarters, growling and snarling and generally in a mood that was, by far, worse than it should have been after his second shower of the joor and the overloads both had entailed, Megatron barked out a few orders to some of his chosen officers and called all of them to call up two soldiers to replace them at their posts for the moment, calling a tactical meeting. Soundwave quickly informed him that he would leave his twin cassetticons, Rumble and Frenzy, at his post, while Shockwave would leave the observation tower in the hands of Starscream's seeker trine, seeing as the other officer had been close by, yet not called to the meeting. Affirming both choices with a curt dismissal was enough to get both officers moving to the strategy room in which he preferred to conclude his schemes.

Megatron briefly thought of taking the chains off of the wall, of tangling another helpless victim up in them, but he knew he wouldn't be satisfied by anyone this orn, and so he just rearranged the empty chains into a set muster. It had to have been subconscious, but it turned out that the chains were bound to the wall in exactly the same pattern in which they had clung to his mate. He was obsessed it appeared, which was not at all unusual for newly bonded and it caused him to smile, realizing that no matter how differently he had claimed his mate, he still had the same rights regarding him, and he would defend his position should anyone try to wrench them from him.

Leaving his quarters behind meant leaving the scent of his mate's dried energon, and he found himself hesitant to do so, but he quickly chastised himself mentally and got a grip, moving out of his quarters with quick strides, certain footsteps and an expression that told any passing mech not to cross him.

A full joor later he had concocted a convincing strategy with which he could protect his bonded from his troops quite effectively. It was a victory in his own regard, and Megatron decided to celebrate it...after their next clash with the Autobot forces, which would be sooner rather than later if he got his way.

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So, please leave a review, everyone!


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